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Poems of the Week
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Airborne
by Clyde Always
A flier with measles allegedly trotted
through Newark unnoticed. You’d think he’d be spotted.
Gatsby’s Return
by Bruce Bennett
“President Trump’s Halloween party at Mar-a-Lago, set to the theme of ‘The Great Gatsby,’ re-enacted the decadence of that story’s licentious era … The revelatory moment says so much about where we stand today—and what we could be lurching into next.”
—The New York Times
Gatsby’s back, alive and well.
Let the country go to Hell!
Drink and spend and have a ball!
Who says rising things must fall?
Who says we can’t spend and spend?
That “good times” are bound to end?
That one can’t just say “Old Sport”
and think that will hold the fort?
Party on, and bust, and break!
All is for the taking. Take!
Spoils are for the Well-To-Do.
Raise your glass to You Know Who.
Raise your glass and fork that cash!
Who says there will be a Crash?
See that Oval Office gleam?
Make a nightmare of the Dream.
Snatch huge profits from the loss.
Then, pay homage to the Boss.
Never suffer shame or doubt.
Dance, as that green light goes out.
Observant
by Clyde Always
“Serial bandit—with 5 prison stints for burglary—keeps hitting NYC kosher stores on the Sabbath but remains free”
—New York Post
Saturday-shatterday,
Angelo Robinson
breaks into delis—through
Brooklyn he stalks.
Kosher ones seem to be
hypersusceptible.
Warning: this crook may be
picking your lox.
Crime and Cover-Up
by Marshall Begel
“Judge shocked as officer joins court meeting over Zoom without wearing pants”
—Fox
His Honor grants a legal stay
allowing press its exposé
about an officer in court
whose wardrobe choices came up short
as long as no reporter probes
what judges wear beneath their robes.
We’s the Bee’s Knees
by Steven Kent
“Slang terms like ‘six-seven’ have no definition. But they’re loaded with meaning”
—The Guardian
The kids who spout this gibberish today
Must learn to speak in words both pure and true.
If they should still refuse the proper way,
Hey, 23 skidoo!
We’ll school ’em till the cows come home, for sure,
In phrase and elocution while we can.
Their slang and nonsense, no one should endure—
Your father’s mustache, man!
The Write Stuff
by Steven Urquhart Bell
“Gamble to become a full-time artist pays off with debut exhibition”
—Evening Standard
I’d love to make a brand-new start
And chuck my job to ply my art,
But first I need to find the pluck
And then I need a job to chuck.
Small Hands
by Dan Campion
“Small Businesses Gear Up for Tariff Fight at Supreme Court”
—The New York Times
This “gearing up” to meet the Court
In battle royal may
Produce a win or come up short.
Observers cannot say.
Young David slew Goliath, yes?
Hence justice may prevail.
But bet on it? Good luck! My guess:
A small thumb’s on the scale.
Hot Comfort
by Marshall Begel
“Tyra Banks is launching ‘hot ice cream’… a creamy, dreamy consistency that can be sipped from a cup…”
—CNN
So, Tyra Banks announced her drink debut?
But I’ve already crafted such a brew:
My mocha cappuccino with a hint
of caramel, vanilla, peppermint,
a healthy splash of heavy whipping cream
infused with almond concentrate, then steam
till just about a boil, with room for rice
milk, sprinkled with a dash of pumpkin spice.
But I suppose I’ll try hers for a span,
at least till Starbucks lifts my lifetime ban.
(For more witty poems, read our current issue or visit our Poems of the Week archive)
